I wrote this last night, which may not be a good thing. When the sun makes the ice thicker, entropy is running in reverse.

The censor in my head wanted my feelings to be more original than this. Written in Atlanta, 1993.

A song by the entirely imaginary band Kitten Children. Farrell is a total dweeb, so why is the hot chick his girlfriend?

Inspired by a translation I did of Yoko Nagamori's "Alice", and set to the same music. Basically a song about a woman pining after the guy she's been friends with since childhood.

But all the ways you've learned to say "I'm human" have been learned by rote.

My eyes are missing. I really don't know what's become of them.

We have a black hole on our roof. And I think it's sneaking downstairs to steal our stuff, too.

The angry manifesto of a 10 year old would-be revolutionary.

This is why I boycotted Thanksgiving until I had kids. And other stories.

Another problem I still have.

Teen angst suicide poem that I didn't know I was writing. I thought it was about being tired.

When we look into the future, what of today can we still see?

Morning, soon enough to die

some words must not be said

one sunny morning i awoke to find i was gone

Maybe you need better friends.

I'm not what I was anymore.

You know how all your friends started hating you in freshman year? Maybe you shouldn't have done this.

Geek love.

If I say I am a fool, yes a fool to feel this way, will the magic make the feelings go away?

Magical realism (for which there is no category on this site.) Mad scientists can never learn to be wild things.

The selves beneath our selves.

Marcia's going to write the Great American Novel. Sure she is. Just you wait. (This is probably funniest if you've been writing a while.)

If you like comics, you'll probably think this is funny. What if mutant children with superpowers did live among us? What if they were big brats?